A Few Ounces Of Bottled Up Emotions

     Today, the SIS girls MISO volleyball team won the championship game. I'm on the team. We played two games against GCA, who were the reigning champions during the preliminary games. Going into the gym this morning, I thought to myself, "I know I'm not going to play. It's not going to happen." I already know how Ms. Mili's mind works when she's a coach during a game. It's win or nothing. She doesn't care if you've been sitting out the whole game. You might as well be invisible if you're not on the court. And that's just how I felt throughout the whole season. I hate being like this because I feel that no one even wants my opinion on things. But when have I cared about people's opinions? I'm going to tilt over this bottle and let my emotions flow out.

     I joined the MISO volleyball team this year because it was my last year to ever do so. I missed being in a team. I missed all the fun I used to have, champions or not champions. It was the fun of the game that mattered to me. This year held a big surprise, however. Not only was my average playing time about five minutes out of an hour, my joy for the game seemed to have vanished. I used to walk onto the court with a smile. Now I just stick around on the side watching other people play. I used to walk out of the match, sweaty, happy. Now I leave the game with a blank face, and not a drop of sweat dripping off my jersey. This year disintegrated my love for volleyball. 

     You know, I may not be the best player, but I'm a good player. I never doubted for a second that I could go up for a block or spike hard. Never. I always knew that I had it in me. Now I don't even know if I can do those things anymore because I never had the chance to do it this year. My dad always told me to play hard and practice hard so I can get a spot in the game. I did practice hard. I even asked Ms. Mili if I could play more for just one game, but again, I might as well have been invisible. My efforts went unnoticed.

     Ms. Mili has this habbit of putting people in in the middle of games (close to the end of the set), expecting them to play so effortlessly. But little does she know that when she calls for a sub and stops the game for a particular girl to run out and replace another girl, all the attention is on that person, and for me, I felt that I was out of place and that every inch of my mistakes were noticed more than my good plays.

     I often regret signing up for this year's team. If I had known what this season would have been doing for me, I would have just walked out of the meeting. I'm not trying to sound condescending, but there were freshmen, sophomores, and juniors who were having more playing time than I had. It's degrading! I've played more years of volleyball, and there are younger girls who are playing more than I was.

     During the championship game, on the second set, Ms. Mili called for a timeout and the girls on the court came into a huddle. I heard Amber say "Best senior year ever," and right at that moment, I felt like breaking down in tears. It's sad because it is my senior year, but it's far from being the best. 

     My parents always make it to my games, and I feel sorry for them because they come solely to see me play, and I don't get to. My discontent for Ms. Mili's poor coaching skills was apparent throughout the second half of the preliminary games. I didn't stick my hand in after a huddle, I stood away from her, my facial expressions were blank or pissed off, I didn't look at Ms. Mili when she was talking. I was fed up. I wanted to quit the team. Shane and I both talked to each other about how unfair Ms. Mili was to us (considering that we're seniors), but she got her break. She got to play full games. I however, never got that break. I stayed out.

     Today, regardless of my extreme opposition for Ms. Mili's poor coaching tactics, I decided to cheer on the team and send good vibes, because being a sore ass throughout the game would definitely haven been useless for everyone. I cheered from the side. I knew I wasn't going to be put in. I called "in" and "out" for balls and Ms. Mili acknowledged that from me. The only thing she had ever acknowledged from me throughout the season. Now that's the only thing I attributed to the team; calling "in" or "out" from the sidelines. When we won the trophy, I didn't touch it, not even once. I stayed away, and only took couple of group photos. I left without saying goodbye. I left because I thought that the team should have had some time with the trophy they won. I didn't do anything to win that trophy because I didn't play at all. I felt that I would have been cheating myself if I would have touched it.

     I drove home alone, in tears. Even though SIS won the trophy, I felt that I had nothing to do with it. There was no joy, no victory dance, nothing, because that trophy showed the talent of other people, not me. I was on the "team," but I did not win that trophy.